For He is the Sun
by ChemicallyEnhanced
Summary: "Yesterday is history, tomorrow is a mystery, but today is a gift." Masamune reflects. Fluff. Introspective.


Disclaimer: I don't own Sekaiichi Hatsukoi because there would be too many internal thoughts if I did.

This is one of my least favorites, if only because there's no dialogue and re-reading this is such a pain in the fucking ass. Also it's kind of boring, like why did I think writing this was a good idea? Ah well. The me of a year ago was different.

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Masamune wakes to the low humming of the heater and the tranquil air of another blessed spring morning. It takes him a moment to catch his bearings before he notices the heavy warmth lying on top of him, arms sprawled everywhere and breath misting the smooth skin of his neck. Ritsu lies perfectly still, muscles loose and relaxed, so unlike how he was a few months ago. Smiling quietly, Masamune runs a gentle hand through the other's silky brown locks and pulls Ritsu closer to him, breathing in the pleasing scents of his lover. He really doesn't want to get up right this second, because if he does, then the fragile peace that the early morning has accomplished using the remains of the night before will break, and Ritsu and he will fall into the same routine that they always have, one that has been thankfully familiar yet weighs heavily on the flimsy strings of Masamune's heart.

In the still atmosphere of Masamune's bedroom, he allows himself to gather the chaotic floating thoughts that he's had for the past few months since Ritsu finally relented and called them "official". Kisa was strangely overjoyed when Ritsu shared the news, not that it's any of Masamune's business really. It's _so_ nice to be able to shower affection on his favorite person in the entire world at work with no backlash and no attempts on Ritsu's end to push him away and run again. The many, many, many times that Masamune had had Ritsu cornered in his apartment, at work, even that one time when it was Christmas Eve in the safety and heat of his car had been starting to wear down on the older editor, and he was just about ready to give up with his pursuit of Ritsu.

After all, who wouldn't be discouraged when the one he loved kept running away from his declarations of love?

The six months since Ritsu started working at Marukawa Publishing were honestly hell, because the one that Masamune loved with all his heart was so close—Ritsu was even his _neighbor_!—yet so far, always just outside his reaching fingertips. Masamune would never show it to Ritsu, but he really was very insecure about how the other felt about him. His feelings were certain, were stronger than anything he'd ever felt in his entire life—but what about Ritsu? What about the person whose heart Masamune was trying to win over? What about the person who had—indirectly—taught him that it was okay to feel happy to see someone, to want to talk to them all the time and kiss them and develop an actual dependence that wasn't so unhealthy, just on another person? Masamune really couldn't be too sure whenever he kissed Ritsu and the other shoved him off and scurried back to the…"security" of his apartment or his work station, where Masamune couldn't do anything because of the others. It seemed whenever Masamune tried to get closer to Ritsu, the farther Ritsu just ran away from him.

And really…Masamune had to remind himself _constantly_ that Ritsu wasn't the same person from ten years ago and wouldn't automatically return his feelings, that Ritsu was an independent young man and had his own responsibilities, that Ritsu could have possibly hated him all this time and Masamune was just too blind in his own love to notice a single thing. But that didn't stop him from acting on his own desires, from getting his refill of "Onodera Ritsu" whenever he could every day. It was an unhealthy addiction to someone who didn't appreciate being kissed several times a day, like a drug that Masamune just couldn't get off of because it was _so_ sweet and something that he couldn't live without—but frankly, he always pushed that dangerous line of thought away whenever it became too overwhelming.

It was one thing to want to be with someone, another to want to lock him up and not let him go forever.

Masamune starts when he feels the slight shifting of Ritsu's body next to him, the other's brows furrowing in discontent before smoothing out again, unwittingly bringing himself closer to the one he used to reverently called "Saga-senpai". Heart skipping a beat, Masamune allows himself to drink in his fill of Ritsu's beautiful and delicate features. Because that's what Ritsu is. Beautiful. Masamune won't deny it, even though he'll surely never tell Ritsu this. Just calling the other man "cute" was enough to turn him into a ball of blushing, flustered energy.

 _Ritsu's face could even be considered a work of art when he's asleep_ …Masamune muses, then feels his cheeks pink at yet another dangerous line of thought. He really needs to straighten his mind out, not just in front of Ritsu, but when he's staring unabashedly at the source of his affection while he's asleep, his mind whirling with all the possibilities of what he could do _with_ Ritsu, _for_ him that would make him happy.

All this self-sacrificing thinking makes Masamune snort to himself quietly. He was never that kind of person, but around Ritsu sometimes, when Ritsu is actually _smiling_ at him and not glaring, when Ritsu allows himself to respond to Masamune's "love assaults" in an empty break room or the hallway of their apartments…he really feels he can do anything for this person who stole his heart and never gave it back. He feels that he never can love Ritsu any more than he already does, but then Ritsu does something _completely_ unexpected and Masamune feels that his heart expands a little more to fit all the love he has for Ritsu, because at times it's close to bursting into an explosion of hearts and sparkles and all that sappy stuff from the shoujo manga he edits.

His thoughts really take an interesting turn when he lets them, Masamune thinks to himself, turning downwards so he can gaze at Ritsu's angelic face some more. Ritsu has rather short eyelashes compared to Masamune himself and sometimes they clump up when he's crying and turn into a great black mass, but it doesn't take away from his attractiveness, anyways. His nose is small and straight, probably inherited from his father—not that Masamune has ever seen any pictures of Ritsu's father. It only reminds him that he really wants to meet Ritsu's parents… anyways, Masamune moves his gaze down to those pale pink lips that he's kissed so many times and never gotten tired of, those lips that can make the most beautiful noises during sex yet lash out with the harshest insults towards those he dislikes, those lips that tremble and pout and do so many other expressions that make Masamune's gaze immediately zone in on them, wondering when he could get that next kiss from his adorable lover.

And those eyes, those eyes that haven't yet opened, those gorgeous emerald orbs that darken and widen and narrow and show all the emotions that Ritsu's face won't…Masamune loves Ritsu's eyes most of all, because even though Ritsu himself won't say he loves him, his eyes _will_ , and that's all the reassurance that Masamune really needs to get through to the next day. Any and all affection that Ritsu lets himself show to Masamune is treasured, kept in a small box in his heart that he brings out sometimes when days are bad, when Ritsu completely ignores him all day and won't talk to him, or even when the stress of work gets to be too much for him.

When the sun's rays angle themselves onto the mussed blankets of Masamune's bed, he is reminded by another thing Ritsu once said to him. Once, Ritsu had compared Masamune to something dark, something that young ladies needed to take caution with, something that belonged more in the night than during the day. Masamune wasn't sure how to feel about this because, on one hand, he doesn't think himself _dark_ , necessarily, just gray and dull; but on the other hand, he feels it's a perfect representation of who he is as a person—if those "young ladies" were replaced with just one Onodera Ritsu, that is. Masamune breathes in deeply and exhales, setting his hands on top of Ritsu's stomach lightly, burying his nose into the back of Ritsu's hair, and he smiles, and kisses that hair gently, waiting for his lover to wake up to another morning of teasing and a comfortable, easy routine that both of them have gotten used to.

Masamune doesn't mind if he belongs to the moon, for Ritsu is his sun.

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A/N: I thought of that last line and wanted to write this. Hope you enjoyed!

-ChemicallyEnhanced


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